


Release the stars tonight

by moon_waves



Category: The Tudors (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Getting Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 11:07:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21243086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_waves/pseuds/moon_waves
Summary: Charles barely avoided beer spilling on his lap as a glass was vehemently put down on the bar next to him.“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?” Mary said in a low, cold voice, sending chills down his spine.





	Release the stars tonight

Charles barely avoided beer spilling on his lap as a glass was vehemently put down on the bar next to him.

“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?” Mary said in a low, cold voice, sending chills down his spine.

He spun on his seat, turning to look at her, feeling very small under her furious gaze despite the good head and a half he had on her, heels be damned.

“I beg your pardon?” he asked quietly, barely taking the time to scan the crowd to make sure Henry wasn’t around.

If there was something more terrifying than having to deal with one pissed off Tudor, it was dealing with _two_ pissed off Tudors, and he seriously wasn’t in the mood for that.

She let out a chuckle that was all ice and no laugh at all.

“Don’t play the innocent, Brandon, you know perfectly well what I’m talking about,” she hissed, furor making her voice drop even lower.

Charles cautiously eyed the glass of beer she was still holding, wondering if he would have the time to duck if she decided to throw its content on him – probably not, and he mournfully said goodbye to his silk tie.

“I sincerely do not know, Mary,” he answered in a pacifying tone, raising his hands in a gesture of good will. “I know I have my faults, but it has been at least ten years since I last riled you up just for the fun of it, and I haven’t done anything like that of recent memory.”

_Or I have been drinking too much, if I forgot about it, and that would mean serious problems for me_, but he didn’t voice his concerns out loud, more preoccupied by the imminent contact of beer on his shirt.

Mary stared at him darkly for a moment, looking ready to explode – and he did _not_ want to have beer thrown on him tonight, please let it not happen – before frowning slowly, her anger morphing into something else.

“You seriously don’t see it,” she finally stated coolly. “Well, _Charles_,” and for once hearing her say his name did not send the right kind of shivers down his spine “do you often have dinner in fancy restaurants with gorgeous women when _we_ are supposed to be going to the movies together?”

Charles started at her blankly, trying to figure out what she was talking about before finally figuring out – and oh damn, that did _not_ bode well for him.

Screw Henry for involving him into this mess, honestly. He was just trying to balance his life between his fencing career and the slow dance Mary and him had been living for years, the two of them steadily getting closer over the last few months. Ending up stuck in the middle of his best friend’s divorce was _not_ part of his plans.

“That,” he said weakly.

Mary frowned again, and he could see the fire of her anger burning up in her eyes again – sue him, but she was _beautiful_ and he had missed her, okay? – which meant he had a grand total of five seconds before he was definitely going to get beer thrown in his face.

Or on his shoes, if he was lucky.

“The _Savoy_?” he asked quietly, and Mary nodded, hand tense around her glass of beer.

Impact imminent – _get your mouth in action, Brandon, and don’t mess it up_.

“I see you’ve met Henry’s new _passion_,” he said in an even lower tone of voice, eyes focused on her.

Mary blinked once, twice, before understanding dawned on her. It was fascinating to watch, truly – seeing the anger morph into realization and then bitterness and anger again, but it wasn’t directed at him anymore, which, honestly, was a big win.

Maybe his tie would survive the evening – as well as his relationship with Mary.

“What were you doing with _her_? At the _Savoy_, on top of everything!” Mary asked in a hiss, her face a cold mask – and he realized he had one chance to explain himself before landing into deep troubles.

“Henry asked me to get paparazzies off his back,” Charles said simply, looking around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation.

The bar he had picked was a fairly laid-back place, filled to the brim with up-and-coming consultants and lawyers, most of them looking for a pint or two to relax after a long day at work. No one had been paying him any attention, the tailored suit he was wearing making sure he blended perfectly well into the crowd. Besides, he seriously doubted anyone would have been hanging around to get some fresh news about what was growing into one the biggest scandals of the year – the son and heir of the CEO of Tudor Ent., cheating on his wife of ten years and incidentally former ambassador of Spain in England, with one of the newest recruits of the legal team of his father’s enterprise. Divorce was hanging in the air and tabloids were having a field day ever since they had gotten their grabby hands into some _compromising_ pictures.

The affair had been going on for longer than the public suspected and Charles had been rather miffed about the whole thing since the beginning – his policy was to leave women once he wasn’t interested in them anymore, _especially_ if there was someone else he was into, but he also wasn’t a hot topic in tabloids. Not to mention, it had been a _long_ time since his last serious relationship – and he had found himself not really interested into jumping in another affair when he could enjoy Mary’s friendship. His best friend’s little sister had grown into a fierce, beautiful woman and it had become quite difficult to resist his feelings for her, especially now that they were on a more equal footing. It had been easier to tease her, flirt with her when she had still been in college, but now that she was working for the _Maison Capet-Valois_… well, things had changed.

Nobody cared about fencing in that bloody country, and although he cursed it most of the time, with everything that was going on, he found that he didn’t mind it that much anymore. His relative anonymity – even though he had brought back a bronze medal at the latest Olympic Games – was a lot better than the interest the Tudors could garner.

“Henry asked you to bring _her_ to dinner,” Mary said flatly. “At the _Savoy_.”

Charles looked at her glass of beer cautiously before meeting her eyes again. A storm was brewing here, and he wasn’t sure what would be its first target – probably him, considering that he was here, unlike his idiot of a best friend.

“He still maintains that his relationship with her is perfectly appropriate,” Charles went on, scanning the crowd every now and then. “He wants to remain in control of the narrative, you know.”

“_Our father_ wants us to remain in control of the narrative,” Mary amended, but she definitely sounded slightly less angry.

Charles relaxed visibly, a weight dropping off his shoulders. Mary kept looking at him with pinched lips for a moment or two before relaxing too, shaking her head and finally taking place on the seat next to him.

They were both at the same level now and Charles definitely preferred it that way.

Besides, it gave him the opportunity to marvel at the finesse of Mary’s face, which, honestly, wasn’t something he was going to complain about.

She looked very sharp in her suit, and Charles had an inkling she hadn’t gone home before coming here, but rather had left directly after work. It made him feel a little hot inside – a feeling that had become far too familiar over the past few months, ever since he had finally accepted that she wasn’t just a safe target for his flirting, but rather someone he could see himself live his life with.

Wasn’t that terrifying and exhilarating at the same time?

“I’m sorry,” Mary said quietly before taking a sip of her beer. “I shouldn’t have made assumptions.”

Charles considering shrugging for a moment, looking at her profile before turning his eyes onto the bar. Had it been anyone else, he would have acted as if it didn’t matter – but it had stung a little, realizing that Mary really thought he was that kind of man, leading a woman on and then going out with another – so he preferred not to pretend.

Not this time.

“I thought you knew my character by now,” he said pointedly, still a little hurt.

Mary winced before turning towards him. She hesitated for a moment before putting a hand on his wrist, and he turned fully, looking at her with attentive eyes.

“I know you’re serious when you want to be,” she said quietly, staring at him with clear eyes. “I remember how it was, when you were still with Anne Browne.”

She paused for a moment, then:

“I also know how you behave, when you’re _not_ in a serious relationship, Charles.”

“And you thought I wouldn’t treat you, wouldn’t treat _this_,” he gestured between the two of them, “seriously? What have I done to make you think this way?”

“Your string of ex-girlfriends,” Mary answered briskly, ignoring her phone as it buzzed off on the bar.

Touché. Charles grimaced a little and mumbled an apology – whether it was for Mary or for his exes, he wasn’t too sure, but at least, it was done.

“But this is settled now,” Mary added quietly, squeezing his wrist a little.

Their eyes met and for one moment it was as if time had stopped – by the heavens, he _really_ was deep into it.

Crazy in love with the most passionate woman he had ever met and he couldn’t regret it for one second.

She was too full of life for that.

They looked at each other for a moment and Charles felt himself blush a little, just the tip of his ears. Mary’s gaze grew fonder all of a sudden and he moved his arm slightly so that her hand was now resting on top of his.

He liked seeing it here.

Her other hand was still cupping her glass of beer, slender fingers spread out for him to gaze at, and he finally admitted to himself that her ring-finger would look even better with something on it – tan and manicure there or not.

“No one compares to you, Mary,” he said quietly, and their fingers touched, almost getting intertwined before she took her hand off.

“Let’s get out of here,” she suggested briskly, and he stared at her for a couple of seconds before getting out of his seat, almost knocking into it in his haste to get on his feet.

He put enough money on the bar to cover for both their half-empty drinks and then tip the waitress before following Mary outside of the bar, leather jacket thrown over his arm as she led the way.

The October night was a bit chill and he shivered before putting his jacket on. Mary had managed to put her coat back during her walk out of the bar, and she looked at him with a little smile, appreciation clear in her eyes as she took a look at his outfit.

He had been rather proud of it when he had put it together earlier in the day, and felt even better now that it had gotten Mary’s little nod of approval.

It was still early in the night and he hadn’t eaten yet – something his stomach reminded him with much noise, getting a little chuckle out of Mary.

“How do you feel about Italian?” he suggested, and she nodded, taking his arm as he offered it to her, leading them to one of their favorite spots.

The atmosphere felt clean, as if the tension that had been brimming between them for months now (years, truly) had evaporated, now that they were on the same page.

A bright, shining afternoon after a storm, where the warm asphalt smelled of pouring rain and even the clouds seemed to have been washed, everything shining in a bright new light.

His life was laid open in front of him and he knew which path to walk onto, if he wanted to be happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always more than welcome :)


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